First off, if you are a reader of mysteries and have ever sadly noted that favourite authors occasionally put out a stinker and let you down--I recommend Robert Barnard. He writes everything from cozies to cop stories to suspense to short stories, and I don't think he's ever disappointed me yet. Read two (The Graveyard Position and Dying Flames) yesterday and see no reason to revise my opinion.

Robert B. Parker, however... okay, he's been at it forever and in some ways he's very disciplined and tight. He put out a couple of really sub-par, going-through-the-motions Spenser novels a while back but seems interested in the character again.

However. The new Matt Mays & El Torpedo record, Terminal Romance, has a line in the title track that goes "There ain't nothing as dead as a dead romance," and I begin to think it's that underlying knowledge that lets me listen to his stuff without, you know, wanting to kill either the characters or myself with a hammer.

How does this relate to Parker? I read an interview with him once that indicated he and his wife of forty years live in separate flats in the same house, and it seems to work for them, and Spenser and his lady love also seem to have worked out the fact that they can't live together but are committed to one another.

Sunny Randall and Jesse Stone, however, the leads in his other two series, are each hung up on an ex and don't know what to do about it and at least in the case of Stone I think the whole thing is really toxic. Certainly if you're unwise as I was and read one of each series in a row, you start to think, "Bob? Hey, Bob? There comes a time to cut your losses. Or your character's." Having two series leads in exactly the same dead-end spot, and both of them in therapy, is just... I don't know what it is, but I want them all to listen to "Ain't So Heavy" a few times and get over it.

I also read a book called Toxic Criticism by one Eric Maisel and I think I recommend it. It deals partly with dealing with nastiness from the people around you, but to a great extent with your own self-talk. Like, it's okay to acknowledge you made a mistake or failed at something, but WHY do we so often continue on to tell ourselves that we failed because we are idiots or unworthy or whatever? It partly prevents us from learning, and maybe partly protects us from trying again (why would I try when I am an idiot?)

Useful, and pretty interesting. And I think we can all relate at least a bit, you know?